


Flicker

by 3x3



Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven: Orion no Kokuin
Genre: Gen, M/M, Rarepair shipping is hard but my motto is: ya wanna see something ya gotta write it yourself, Rated as such because of Hiroto's potty mouth + one (1) semi dirty joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 19:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/pseuds/3x3
Summary: There are only so many glimpses at vulnerability.





	Flicker

**Author's Note:**

> Uh freshly edited and here is the product.  
As always, link to writing notes will be included in the end notes.

Inazuma Japan lives in very nice headquarters.

The walls are broad, the ceilings are high, the lighting is bright and motion-sensory. Fancy. This must be where all the government's money goes to, instead of maybe investing in subsidies for poorer citizens to get better healthcare and education: this facility built for a group of bratty teenagers. Well, the facility, sans Room 210, because it is the only room with an unstable light bulb.

"You're rich, right? Can't you just get someone to come and fix it?" Haizaki nags at him.

"You have a functional brain, right? Can't you just learn how to fix it and do it yourself?" Hiroto quips back, irritated. "Youths these days." He clicks his tongue distastefully for good measure.

"You're literally one year above me." Haizaki mutters, as Hiroto jams in his earphones and tunes him out.

There have been days when he'd actually felt guilty about being an ungrateful spoiled rich child, but he is long past that. Must be the bitterness within him, aging like fine wine. Not that Hiroto knows how aged wine tastes like. They could be absolutely disgusting for all he cares, but he figures that there must be _ something _ that is attractive to the mass for the expression to stick. Whatever. He is not a linguist.

"_ Hey _." Haizaki yanks off one side of his earbuds with a glare all too condescending. His eyes are lit up with a defiant arrogance that’s highly maddening. It makes Hiroto scowl. Haizaki presses on like he doesn’t notice. "I’m not done with this conversation."

"But I am. Goodnight."

Hiroto drops back on his sheets and turns his back on Haizaki. He cranks up the volume of his music.

At this rate, he’s going to grant himself an early loss of hearing, but if that means he would never have to listen to Haizaki’s whining, he’d gladly trade it in.

Eventually, Haizaki’s grumbles die down.

Peace is reclaimed.

* * *

Hiroto wakes with his stomach halfway up his digestive system. Or it's what he feels like anyway. Vile, like swallowing a raw egg.

It's dark outside. He can only assume it's still very very _ very _ early in the morning, so much that the sun has not risen yet.

He _ would _ walk over to the bathroom and empty out his entire body if the mere idea of _ moving _ didn't scream _ UGH _ in the forefront of his thoughts. The truth is that he doesn't feel like he could budge. At all.

Hiroto lifts a boneless arm and wildly flails at the bedside table to grab his charging phone. The light doesn't blast his eyes terribly, because of Haizaki's habit of sleeping with a nightlight for some reason.

It's 2:26 in the morning.

Hiroto groans to himself.

"What is it?" Haizaki's slurred voice bleeds into the muddled night. "Why the hell are you up in the middle of the night?”

Hiroto stifles down an even louder groan. Great, the headache's awake. “You can’t honestly tell me I woke you up.”

“You did. I’m a very light sleeper.” Even in the dark, Hiroto could guess that Haizaki is trying to aim a pointed look at him but can’t accurately locate the target.

The comical thought would've cheered him up if It didn't strike a nerve. Here he is, writhing in indescribable pain and Haizaki has the gall to be cross with him for suffering too loudly?

“Fine. I’m sorry for waking you.” He grits his teeth. He does not have the energy to deal with, well, _ anything _ at the moment. “Get the fuck back to sleep already.”

“Well," there's sound of limbs popping. Haizaki is probably stretching, instead of _ getting the fuck back to sleep _ like Hiroto _ asked. _ "seeing as I’m already up, you might as well dump whatever your issue is onto me.” he says nonchalantly.

It's frustrating.

“I’m not feeling very well. Happy?” Hiroto snaps. “It’s none of your business, so just leave me to my own misery.”

He hears Haizaki shuffle to his feet. A click. The lights flicker on.

“Come on. What is it?” Haizaki plops down at the feet of his bed. An obnoxious hand brushes over his forehead.

Haizaki’s hand is clammy.

“So it’s not a fever.”

“Not everything is a fever, _ dumbass. _”

“Okay, what do you need then? Water? Food?”

“No food.” Hiroto squeezes his eyes tight to push down the nausea. It tumbles in his stomach in a sickening motion. “Yes to the water.”

“Wow. It’s almost as if I’m your personal servant instead of your caring _ kouhai. _” Haizaki snipes, getting up nonetheless.

“Be a good underclassman and get me that water then.” Hiroto retorts, not one to back down even when borderline delirious.

“Right away, Young Master.”

He hears Haizaki’s mocking tone as he loses grip of his consciousness again.

_ It’s weird he’s being thoughtful. _ He thinks. He’s not sure if he finishes that thought.

When Hiroto wakes again, the sunlight is positively blasting him to death. It throws him off balance for a second when he realizes his alarm didn’t ring. There’s a cup of water and a bowl of soup on the top of his bedside dresser.

_ It’s an athlete’s responsibility to take care of himself, shithead. _

Haizaki’s barely legible chicken scratch spills across the torn notebook page.

Despite still feeling like his insides are being repeatedly frozen and microwaved, Hiroto manages to stagger his way to the toilet, wincing each step.

After emptying his bowels, he finally feels a little less like dying, and more like a shell, hollow, not much to it.

He sits back on his bed, still uneasy. He downs the water.

Running his fingers over the jagged edges of the notebook page mindlessly, he takes a spoonful of soup. It’s lukewarm.

He makes a face but swallows duitfully.

* * *

The lights flicker. They blink several times before dying out completely. Hiroto squints his eyes in confusion. The little lightning sign that symbolizes his phone charging is nowhere to be seen.

Hiroto frowns. A blackout?

A strangled choke escapes the bathroom.

He frowns, and raises his voice. “Oi, Haizaki. You alright in there? You didn’t slip and crack your skull, did you?”

"_Fuck off_." There's a tremor in Haizaki's voice. It almost goes unnoticed, like he is trying to mask it, but can't stop the panic from seeping through the cracks. "Give me some light in here, would you?"

"You better be decent when I get in there." Hiroto grumbles. "As in covering yourself with a towel of something. Morally, you're hopeless."

Haizaki doesn’t say anything in return, for once.

When he enters the bathroom, Haizaki is clutching on his towel with a death grip.

There’s just them and the blinding beam shooting out from Hiroto’s phone.

“I’m gonna set this here, okay?” Hiroto sets his phone on the counter. “I’m gonna duck out so you can put some clothes on.”

“_Wait_!” Haizaki yelps. A hand fastens on Hiroto’s left wrist. The hold is tight enough to cut off circulation, probably. The good news is that at least Haizaki is holding the towel up with his other hand, because Hiroto appreciates not being flashed.

“What?” Hiroto asks. “I was just going to get your nightlight. It’s significantly a better light source than the flashlight on my phone.”

“It’s out of batteries.” Haizaki tells him. “I was going to recharge it as soon as I get out of the shower.”

“Oh. Well, you’re just going to have to bear with my crappy phone flashlight, then.” _ Until it dies, that is. _ Hiroto thinks to himself but doesn’t say out loud. Hopefully the lights will be back before that happens.

“Put on your clothes.” Hiroto says again, averting his gaze to give the other boy some privacy in their proximity.

The hold on his wrist doesn’t budge, but it slackens remarkably, and Hiroto can feel his hand again. They both fall silent for a while, letting the sound of ruffling fabric fill the lapse.

It would be so easy to take advantage of the situation and mock Haizaki for eternity over his apparently phobia of the dark, but contrary to popular belief, Hiroto isn’t completely fueled by malice. (Yes. He’s surprised too.) And he can understand not being the biggest fan of vacancy. When everything is dark, anything can slide out from attention. That’s why everything is out to get you. Or at least that’s what it feels like. So he stays put and doesn’t pull away, only satirizes off-handedly, “You’re gonna take forever if you’re only using one hand, my dude.”

“How dare you question my life choices?” Haizaki rebuts.

A slight smile piques at Hiroto’s mouth, much to his own chagrin.

Another set of fingers curl around his forearm and the first set liberates their grasp. Some more limb jostling and Haizaki is finally (presumably) fully dressed.

They head back to the room, hands still attached. Hiroto sits down on the floor, because Haizaki doesn’t seem like he’s letting go any time soon and at this point he’s not sure whose bed to sit on. Haizaki, predictably, folds into his body beside him.

He’s almost like some type of dog like this, following at Hiroto’s heels. It’s weird.

A knock at the door. “Haizaki-_kun_? Hiroto-_kun _? Are you two alright in there?”

“We’re fine.” Haizaki calls back.

“Come on in.” Hiroto offers.

The doors slide open, reavealing the team’s manager, Mikado, holding a proper flashlight.

“Have they found out why the electricity cut off yet?” Hiroto asks her.

She nods. “A fuse burnt out in the main switch. They’re getting it fixed right now.”

It's good news, Hiroto supposes, because his phone really does not have that much battery left. Hopefully enough to last through the blackout, if the announcement is to be believed.

“Okay, thank you for telling us.”

She dips her head, and vanishes from the doorway, probably to knock on more doors. The hallway falls back into darkness.

“Managers don’t have it easy, do they? The building’s blacked out and they still have to walk around in the dark.” Haizaki observes.

“I guess.” Hiroto shrugs. “You doing alright?”

“You’re being thoughtful and it’s creepy.” comes Haizaki’s flat voice after a moment of hush. The accusatory tone in his voice would be offensive if it weren’t so hilarious how wary he sounds.

“What are you talking about?” Hiroto snorts. “I’ve always been nothing but deeply compassionate and empathetic”

“Sure you are.” Haizaki scoffs.

Hiroto elbows him in the ribs. Quiet laughter trickles into the room.

“The moon is out.” Haizaki notes, lifting his still wet head upward.

“Are you pulling a [ Natsume Soseki ](http://lang-8.com/kanotown/journals/271072040842663910811687067663670740014) on me right now?” Hiroto asks drily.

“What’s that? What does Natsume Soseki has to do with the moon.”

“Nevermind.” Hiroto sighs. “I clearly overestimated your level of enlightenment “

“_ Hey. _”

_ This is a bonding moment, _ Hiroto muses. _ We’re sitting on the floor and we’re not trying to strangle one another. Tatsuya would be so proud. _

“Dry your hair, stupid.” he says, rubbing down on his scalp aggressively. “You’re going to get sick.”

“Like you’re to talk.” Haizaki laughs, putting his best efforts in dodging the assaults.

It’s a mindless scuffle in the dark, where every line blurs a little, and nothing said or done counts. Which is a good thing, because Hiroto would die before he let himself feel any trace of fondness towards Haizaki Ryouhei.

In the dark though, he hangs on to the boy and allows the world to linger.

* * *

The lights flicker.

They hold still.  


[ _ When the lights go out _ ](https://youtu.be/ck7G-7FtaKc)

[ _ And I'm all by myself in the darkness _ ](https://youtu.be/ck7G-7FtaKc)

[ _ When the lights go out _ ](https://youtu.be/ck7G-7FtaKc)

[ _ I hear my heart beating the hardest _ ](https://youtu.be/ck7G-7FtaKc)

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I usually say come visit me on my blog but as some of my readers may know, my blog is on lockdown. So uh, comment? Or ya know drop by the blog anyway to reminiscence the good old days ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
As promised, [writing notes](https://docs.google.com/document/d/19dpHcpvGZn8KJOo82QFA0GonFKMm3b2aS-e3exlHoYo/edit?usp=drivesdk)


End file.
